Four Strangers
by HawkinsLab
Summary: Is there something more to the stories of four strangers who found their way to Redwall Abbey? What lies beneath their tall tales? Journey to a cold winter's night in the Great Hall and uncover the truth. Complete please read and review.


**Four Strangers**

 **A Short Story of Redwall**

It was a cold winters night worse than any Redwall had ever seen when the four strangers made their way to the front gates. A snowstorm had roared across Mossflower like a tempest, sweeping the land with a ferocity that couldn't match even the strongest vermin warlord.

Birrel, a young mouse maid that loved to watch the snowfall from the infirmary was the first one to spot a lone lantern in the night.

At first her mind had raced back to the trouble they had with the vermin Rugga Bor less than two seasons ago and she almost sounded alarm. But as the light grew closer she saw it to simply be a traveling squirrel who sought shelter.

Boorab and the Foremole had just finished tending to the lights in the Great Hall when the mouse maid gave them the news. And a few moments later the gates were opened to allow the traveler a bit of rest.

As the storm grew worse, the Foremole kept watch on the roads to see what other natives in Mossflower might come. For even in these harsh woods, a strong badger would likely feel the need for warmth. He was right to keep an eye out. Tonight would be filled with excitement for Redwall.

The mouse was the second to arrive, his weary and aged appearance showing he had traveled far, but he spoke no words of thanks; instead only asking for food. Brother Hoben obliged and got the poor soul a bit of parsnip soup with celery bread. The perfect meal for any half frozen traveler.

The shrew was next, carrying an old wagon behind him he claimed it held his most valuable treasures. When asked what those were he became irritable and shooed any prying eyes away, convinced that they might steal it.

Then the rat came last, Brother Hoben was most suspcious of him. But once they had inspected to be sure he carried no weapons, he too was allowed to come inside for the warmth that Redwall offered.

The foursome seemed an odd group to be huddled in the Great Hall if there ever had been one. Abbess Mhera instructed Sister Rosabel to provide them blankets for the night.

"May you find solace here," the female otter said as she returned to her own quarters.

The four did not share their names with each other but desperately sought rest, though the storm refused to let them do so. As it hit the abbey walls fiercely like a hurricane they found themselves staring at each other with no way to find sleep.

"It would seem that tonight we will be unable to find a means to rest, so I propose instead we share stories with one another; as a way to pass the time," the squirrel suggested. None of them made an effort to speak a word.

"A wasted effort," the squirrel suggested. "But perhaps one that will get our minds off of things?" The shrew remarked.

"The stories don't have to be factual, but merely entertaining... if you would like I can go first," the squirrel suggested.

"If it keeps us from bein' blown away then go ahead," the rat muttered.

And so the stage was set.

xxxxxx

-the squirel-

Winter winds carry many strange noises across these lands, none perhaps as strange as the one I heard not but two nights ago as I searched for a place to rest my weary legs.

At first when I heard the odd moan I assumed it to be nothing more than a breeze rustling the empty trees but then it sounded more haunting and painful.

I immediately stopped in my search for a home and located the source of it, a poor unfortunate mouse maiden barely surviving the elements.

As I went to approach her however I soon found that it something else besides the weather that was frightening her, she had terrible scratches across her face and blood trickling from her mouth. The poor dear had been attacked!

I asked her to describe what had happened to her but she remained silent, perhaps because of my demeanor or simply because of what she saw; I may never know.

Even though I knew she didn't welcome my presence that night I chose to watch over her, make certain no predators could possibly besiege her once more.

If the snows were not so great I would've insisted that she be on my back to this very abbey! But alas my poor body could take little more of the cold.

She found rest under a large oak where I too set up for the night, but as the moon hung over the woods I heard a strange rustling that made every fur on my body stand up right.

There betwixt the clouds and the trees flew a white shape unlike any I had seen before, it's piercing eyes showing nothing but pure evil. It was a snow owl, a demon of the night I felt certain!

This surely had to be the attacker that the mouse maid was trying desperately to run from! I immediately set about to warn her, but the strange and great owl was moving faster than I anticipated!

It was as though the cold did not bother him at all!

She made a shriek of alarm when she heard him make a low cackling noise and then he spoke his name! "I am Captain Snow! Son of Glacier! Ruler of these woods! Your flesh is mine!"

The words did not sound as though they could be made by any bird alive and as he drew closer I realized this had to be none other than a phantom.

I steeled myself to prepare for the worst, knowing my life may also be in danger as I tried to protect her. Alas it proved to be all in vain. The gruesome ghost struck her down there and then, shredding thru her body as though it were shaft. I could only watch in horror, unable to save her.

It was a truly vicious killing, and I shan't forget it for all my days. I tried to follow the ghost, to somehow exact revenge for the mouse that I hardly knew. But the wind swept away this phantasm as quickly as it had come.

The group of travelers said nothing as the squirrel finished his story, the storm just beyond the Great Hall reminding them all of the mysterious ghost that he had claimed to have seen.

But the tales were not over yet, and the second storyteller stood up to relate his own tale of woe. The mouse looked as though he had seen his fair share of battle so as he prepared to speak, the others turned their attention to him; wondering what story he might spin.

xxxxx

-the mouse-

You speak of spirits and demons as though they walk amongst us, but I have faced them with my own two paws!

A serpent, the size of a mountain; stole my family from my humble home and took them as a snack to eat later in its lair. And me being both a loyal father and husband I knew I could not simply stand helpless.

This monster had to pay! So I found my great grandfather's weapon, a sword brandished from the strongest ore this side of Salmandastron, and took to the snowy country side to hunt down this serpent.

I must say that my first thoughts were those of sheer excitement! To imagine I was treading a path similar to Matthias or Martin, it was exhilarating! But I was also full of fear!

This beast had already slain two dear to me and yet here I was attempting to hunt it down. I'm not sure I was bold or foolish. Perhaps blinded by passion and rage.

The wide body of the adder made him easy to track to his lair, the stone quarry where the bricks of this very abbey had been molded.

Still as I entered nothing seemed to stir and I wondered if I had been led into a trap. But that worry faded when I realized the great monster was resting, his belly full from the slaughter.

I placed my weapon in my teeth and got the lay of the land, climbing over rocks and bone to determine where I might strike. Perhaps the moment would be now, I knew not for sure.

It didn't matter how many times I tried to prepare myself for the battle, it came when I least expected it and the serpent rose to his full height.

I felt certain that my death would be quick but for some reason the snake hesitated. I saw my moment and struck! Leaping onto the snake's head I smashed my weapon down to attack and it cried out in anguish. It writhed in pain as I held firm to the blade, making certain the monster was dead.

As it crumpled to the floor of the quarry I looked at it's massive form and curious colors and came to a conclusion: this was no ordinary snake. It had to be the returned spirit of the great Asmodeus Poisonteeth!

You may view me as mad for declaring something so outlandish! But no ordinary snake could have faced those harsh winds and no mere adder would have been so bold! Only the great serpent of legend could do such a thing!

With my family's memory as my only reason to keep going I resolved to put this behind me, but here I have found I cannot keep this tale to myself any longer.

The mouse sat back down as he finished his strange story, the others looking a bit perplexed.

In the east corridor of the Great Hall, the strangers had attracted a listening ear: the Warrior Denya. He slumped against one of the stone pillars and listened quietly as the rat cleared his throat.

"Aye, a mighty tall tale you spun there me friend! But what I will give ya is going to make the hairs on your fur stand up! Listen well because I don't care to repeat meself!"

xxxxx

-the vermin-

It was only days ago when I left the safety of Rugga Bor and the Juska clans on the western coasts of this great shore.

I had heard rumors of a great treasure in the east, one that would satisfy any vermin scavenger. So I ignored the cold and the savagery of the winter, I gathered my supplies and I pressed out to find this treasure.

Now keep in mind that I really had nothin' to go on except the words of a few mercenaries that came from Mossflower. I had no intention of gettin' near Redwall or any cursed place like this.

But my search told me to follow the clues in the fresh snow, some beast was carrying large wagons further east and so I followed without hesitation.

Now I may seem dumb to ye simply cuz I am a vermin, but I knows when there is treasure near by! And this was certainly the spot! I came across a small couple arguing and I hid myself in the grass to see what the mice might be frustrated about.

The male was becoming more boisterous and angered by the second as I caught the gist of it, his wife had lost some type of treasure amid the snow, an irreplaceable brooch. Upon closer inspection I realized that the wagon I had been following was theirs! I was in luck!

Now I know ye will look down on me for the next words I have te say but I drew my blade thinking' I could get them to admit where they had left the gold. But before I even finished the thought a strange and eerie smoke seemed to cover them as they stood arguing.

For a moment they were oblivious to it but then the two mice became afraid, wondering what sort of spectral occurrence was about te befall them.

I remained motionless as a dark shape emerged from the fog, a rat that looked covered in wounds from beyond the grave. Yet here his ghastly torn body stood among the living.

The two mice shrieked in shock as they tried to evade the gruesome creature but the phantom was too quick. It had its heart set for blood, for wrath I could tell!

It had a way of moving that reminded me of the wind, in a flash it was onto them and the mice begged for their lives.

The male managed to get away but for his wife it was a worse fate than death of that I kenbe sure.

Her wails and anguish will stay with me fer the rest of me days as the spectral of that great rat thrashed her about.

There was some hesitation in the vermin's voice as he struggled to finish the story and Denya walked forward, glaring at the fiend for a moment. "There is no need to hold back on account of cowardice now, finish what you have started," the otter told him.

The rat nodded and swallowed before answering, "Its just... this great rat, I feel certain he will come for me in the night and finish the job! He warned me not to tell another soul! And here I be less than a few days later retellin' the sordid tale."

"You will be safe as long as you are in these walls, now tell us all what did this supposed ghost say?" Denya asked.

"Ye don't believe me do ya?" The vermin muttered.

"I have seen no reason to think you are not telling a tall tale," Denya argued.

"We all has! So why you got to scrutinize my story and not the others?" The rat raged angrily.

"Tell us what the ghost said and then we can discuss if we believe your radical story," the squirrel insisted.

The vermin stared at them all and then declared, "He called himself the Scourge, and said he would consume Redwall with his wrath."

The others looked back and forth worriedly amongst themselves and Denya remarked, "I have heard of Cluny before... he attacked us during the days of Matthias."

"Warrior, what does this mean?" The mouse asked.

"I haven't drawn a conclusion yet, there is still one story left to be told," Denya said as he turned his full attention to the shrew that now seemed to be sweating profusely.

"My turn is it? Then I hope you are a honest soul and not one filled with fury... for the truth I must convey will condemn me," the shrew admitted.

Denya was quiet as were the others as the shrew got their attention, and then began to speak.

xxxx

-the shrew-

Now I do not claim to say that I am innocent; for in life I believe we are all capable of terrible things given the circumstances. But what I have to confess should be viewed as no different than any of the crimes we all commit in our normal lives.

Who of us can claim we are completely devoid of being a wicked creature? Consider this supposed Warrior that protects this abbey. From a certain point of view what he does for the safety of this place could be construed as being a fierce assassin.

So when I relate the strange way I came across a secret chasm of treasures, then you must realize what I did I feel any beast would do.

In the cold and the dark I saw a figure lying still, and as I grew close I discovered that it was a beast that had succumbed to the elements.

There were many questions that I had but none was around for me to receive answers. All I could do is try to ascertain the evidence that surrounded me.

This poor maiden had been killed, not by the winter weather but the strong claws of another traveler in Mossflower.

I saw that she carried some kind of heirloom, a gold brooch that shined amid the snowy fields.

But that wasn't the end of my discoveries, I also saw tracks leading further into the woods, a trail of blood. It was clear that somebeast had taken more from her.

Now you may call me callous for leaving her there but I did have every intention of returning to provide her a proper burial. Had the weather not forced me here for shelter that is certainly what I would be doing now.

But instead my curiosity seized me and I followed the trail toward a grove of thickening trees. There in the middle was a larger tree that had a door carved to it.

I approached it cautiously to see what might be within, hearing whispers of the past linger around the entrance.

There in the dark caverns of the tree I heard more noises like snakes writhing ready for the feast of flesh that I was offering.

The way they hissed was enough to make me consider running the other way. But still the treasure I had seen was driving me forward. "Brock... Brock... Brock..." they called out as I went deeper. Finally they were so loud I could not go any further. I forced myself to gather what treasures I could of that strange place and escaped.

That is how I found myself here, and this is why I have had an air of secrecy around me whenever I arrived here with this wagon. That treasure I now feel is cursed and will likely be the death of me!

I beg you warrior, forgive me for my actions and see that I was but a curious creature wanting to pilfer the dead. I do not wish harm on anybeast.

-the truth-

Denya leaned against the walls and looked at the shrew for a moment longer; perhaps wondering why he shared more guilt than the others. Than at last he had to ask, "This maiden you found in the snow... was it a mouse?"

The others looked at each other nervously even as the shrew responded, "Yes... how did you know?"

Denya sighed as he walked toward the table they sat at and explained, "It would seem the only element of the stories I have heard that is consistent is that a young mouse maiden has perished."

"I think I can make sense of these tales," a voice said behind him and the otter turned to see Boorab the Fool standing there and then added, "If you don't mind; we can talk in private before we present our findings to the Abbess?"

Denya nodded, although reluctant to leave the strangers he obliged and went to a southern hall where his friend could speak to him. "Are you saying there is some truth to what they have told us?" The otter asked.

"Only the same one you have already discerned, an unfortunate maiden was murdered... and these four are somehow responsible. Consider the tales separately at first. A ghost that attacked her, then a snake, and finally a phantom. Now the shrew tells a different story, he finds the body and yet chooses to ignore the crime. This leads me to conclude he too is involved.

The truth is in the details. I believe the squirrel witnessed the crime, as did the rat and they both used the ghost as a way of explaining what happened. As for the mouse, I feel he is the one that actually committed the crime and it is for this reason alone; greed. This treasure, whatever is in this wagon, is what made them choose to take her life and then cover it up. What say you?"

Denya nodded, agreeing with all the findings of his friend and then decided, "Although the mouse acted as the snake in this story... I cannot help but to wonder why he mentioned an additional part of the story, that he had a son. Why would he say something of that nature?"

"I suppose we can find out whenever we present the accusation to the Abbess. Let's make sure they cannot escape!" Boorab insisted.

The two friends returned to the Great Hall to make certain the strangers could not escape, and then a surprise greeted them. No beasts were sitting there any longer and Denya frowned in alarm realizing that they had to escaped when they realized their lies were unraveling.

"Get Brother Hoben and Nimbalo, we need to search the entire abbey!" the warrior told his friend.

In a few moments, they had all convened to the front gates. Yet not a trace of anybeast could be found as the group gathered near the battlement and looked toward Mossflower.

"Look there, I see something there in the fog!" Brother Hoben said in alarm.

Denya could see the strange shadows in the night but felt certain that they were not moving. Without hesitation the otter led the way into Mossflower to determine what had happened.

As Boorab brought the lantern close to the sight all those there could not help but to fall silent by the strange sight.

Four bodies lay dead in the snow, frostbite and the cold itself had done them in but something else was more telling. A pile of treasure lay strewed about the grassy knoll, clearly the reason they had fought amongst themselves.

"It's not possible," Brother Hoben commented. Nimbalo approached the corpse of the mouse, his mouth gaping as he commented, "That's... my father."

Denya looked at him in surprise, recalling the stories that the mouse had told of his abusive struggles. And then the whole tale seemed to fit into place.

"Your mother is dead, my friend. And these four are the culprits. They fought over gold and tried to lie their way out of it. Now their greed has gotten the best of them," Denya explained softly.

There was not a word spoken among the group until at last Boorab spoke and asked something clearly on every beast's mind.

"These four have been dead since yesterday... so how can it be that they visited our Great Hall?"

There was no answer, and the wind seemed to make them fade from sight as the only thing remembered was their guilt and the lies they told.

In their place a fifth figure seemed to emerge from the waste, their victim Nimbalo's mother. Hers was the story that mattered and the one that should be remembered. Her name was the one to be memorialized.

So they made a grave for her near to the east flower garden in Redwall, and they also enshrined a warning to any who might follow the same path as these strangers.

Remember the kindness of strangers, for those who do not show it will reap the gift on an unmarked grave.


End file.
